


Moon Meadow Anthology

by copperbadge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Free Verse, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-01
Updated: 2003-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-26 14:09:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperbadge/pseuds/copperbadge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of poems based around the Harry Potter canon, similar to the Spoon River Anthology, in which several members of the town of Spoon River speak from their points of view in poetry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moon Meadow Anthology

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: PG  
> Warnings: None
> 
> Revision Notes: This has been revised somewhat since its first posting on the now-defunct Oojahs site. It was written sometime around May of 2003, revised in March of 2006, and revised again in September of 2013. Frankly, given the first version was written before the events of Order Of The Phoenix, I'm impressed with my prescience.

Welcome to Hogwarts  
Welcome to Hogwarts.  
Please leave your security at the door,  
Please leave your childhood in your trunks  
Next to your spare parchment scrolls.   
Please do not attempt to be heroes  
(this means you, Gryffindors).

No, you will never be safe again, but then  
That is the price that comes with magic. 

You are free to dislike your teachers, classmates, your work

But every time we push you  
We are doing it because  
If you are never safe  
As you never are  
Then at least you ought to reap full benefit.

Why come,  
If not to learn?

* * *

The Sorting Hat  
She never wanted anything in life  
But to be a Gryffindor like her father.  
I had to put her in Ravenclaw --   
You don't waste cleverness like hers.  
You give Ravenclaw's wit to the girl who will   
Someday  
Be the Minister for Magic  
And will need to know how to be sly.

That boy rather fancied a girl he met on the train  
She got sorted into Hufflepuff and when I got to him  
He asked if he could be a Hufflepuff too.  
And, I said, You are willing to follow this girl  
Into that house? The hard-work house?   
The house that will never have fame?  
Who needs fame,  
He said,  
When you have the girl?

Precocious eleven-year-old, him. 

Unfortunately, their own child got sorted into Slytherin  
But they love each other (and the child) very much. 

There was a boy, I recall, a werewolf  
"Gryffindor!"  
He needed courageous people around him.

There was one so afraid of being sorted wrong --  
Raised by muggles, I disapprove of course but  
Who listens to a hat?  
He was terrified, an orphan  
And I saw --   
Put him in Slytherin. Dark magic never lasts but if that one  
Gets hold of Gryffindor's sort of power,  
It would be worse. I chose the lesser of two evils  
Though it meant deaths either way. 

Years later  
I thought it was him again --   
Orphaned  
Frightened  
Confused

But this one said "No, please, not Slytherin, not Slytherin"  
And I admired his clarity of thought and besides  
I could see that he was Gryffindor through and through.

His mother, years ago  
Asked me quite politely  
Could she please be in Gryffindor?  
I thought about the Hufflepuff who said he didn't need fame or power  
If he had love  
And of course  
I said  
Gryffindor.

I'm never wrong, you know.  
Don't be afraid.

* * *

The Castle  
Safe in my walls  
Creaking stone lullabyes  
Populated by ghosts  
And animated paintings  
False steps (to teach children the wisdom of watching their feet)  
I hunker down each autumn, as the leaves turn

That one, I have known him well  
Like me he is a stone face so impassive  
But still protective of children  
And like me  
Buried deep beneath:  
Terrible secrets. 

When the serpent moved through my pipes what was I to do?  
Nothing, nothing to do  
As helpless as the rest  
Not even the ghosts hear me  
But I stood, mark you, when they first came to me  
And I will stand even if I stand empty  
Waiting for the children to return  
With the changing of the leaves each year.

* * *

House: Ambition  
Godric said we had to have a house for troublemakers  
And I said Oh, Slytherin will take care of that.

He said Yes, he knew well enough.  
He said The problem is we can't just say  
These are terrible monster-children.  
They learn from the labels they're given, you know.

And Slytherin out of the shadows  
Smiled and came forward  
He'd been listening, of course. Eavesdropping.

He licked his lips and laughed.  
Godric, are you going to call it the house of pranksters?  
Are you going to call it the house of Dark Arts?  
Oh and then what will you call the others?

No no no I said Salazar it isn't like that -- 

What do you know, Hufflepuff?   
What do you know of what I have gone through  
What do you know of my life, you stupid aristocrat --

Enough, Slytherin, said Godric,   
While I tried to collect my thoughts. 

Thou shalt starve ere I starve, Salazar said.   
If I had not come up from the gutters and ditches  
Crawling and clawing and fighting  
I would not be here.

Therefore, said the Ravenclaw girl,  
Who had been silent up until now.  
Why do you not call your house   
Ambitious?

Godric always had a soft spot for Ravenclaw.

* * *

Oliver's Game  
Before I came to Hogwarts I played  
Football, I played Lacrosse,   
And at night I dreamed of flying --   
And then came here, saw Ravenclaw play Gryffindor  
And that night, though it was illegal  
I stole a broomstick after dark   
Tried some of the stunts I'd seen and the next morning  
McGonagall gave me a week's detention and a place as Gryffindor alternate Keeper.

The next year   
The Keeper broke her nose in a fall  
Became ball-shy  
I felt bad for her but they put me in and to launch from the green grass  
Up into the pale skies  
What should I care if anyone cheers?   
I am the captain now  
I am Keeper  
And I am the happiest boy in the world.

* * *

The Question  
What does it feel like?  
Well...that is to say...  
It's sort of...it's like plunging into cold water on a warm day.  
There's a little shock at first, but then  
You never want to change back. What do you think,  
James?

Oh no. I don't think so, Pads, it's more...  
It's a kind of a stretchy feeling, isn't it?  
Like when you pull on your earlobes.  
It's sort of a feeling of not quite fitting your clothing.  
Peter, you say, how does it feel?

Oh,   
Oh I'm sure I don't --  
I don't know how, really, I mean...  
You all say it so much better than I do.

And then they all turned to Remus and Remus looked back at them  
His face narrow like a crescent moon  
Pale in the light of examination.  
But when he spoke,  
His eyes danced.

If you're alone, he said, it's like dying,   
Only worse, and a thousand little self-hatreds  
All at once too. 

But if you've got others, he continued,  
It's like...having a really good secret  
And telling your best friend.

Yes, they chorused.  
That's exactly what it's like.

* * *

Every Dream  
I had never once gotten a letter.   
Not addressed to me  
Tommy Riddle  
Exclusively.   
And such a letter! Rich emerald ink,  
Thick heavy creamy paper  
Before I even opened it, I wanted to live in a house made of that paper,  
Wrap myself up in a big blanket of it.

Accepted to a boarding school?  
Had I applied?  
Well, tuition was free.   
I was even given a scholarship for books   
And robes  
As long as I understood I must work hard now --  
I must not let my studies slip. 

Should I ever do aught but study? Why would anyone  
Who had magic at their fingertips,   
Who could make light from air  
And power from will  
Wish to do anything else?

The big red train was so beautiful  
The parchments  
The robes and my wand  
There were boys and girls with owls and creeping crawling things.  
It was as though, suddenly,  
Every good dream I'd had at the orphanage was going to come true. 

I woke up this morning  
Still in my big four-poster  
In Slytherin house  
Newly-made friends all around me  
And for a little while  
In the very early morning  
I wept for joy.

* * *

House: Cleverness  
For years they called me The Ravenclaw Girl  
Younger than the others -- much younger  
I don't know why they took me on.

Perhaps because I was so smart so young  
Perhaps because I tricked them  
I don't even remember now --

But that was the sort of thing I would do.  
Not evil, not exactly  
Just clever, like the students in my house --   
I loved intellect, cleverness, wit.

Did I come to them and say  
Help me! I'm small and weak.  
Did I seduce Godric?  
I sometimes dream I did  
But I'm never really sure.

I'm the only one left alive  
I was much younger than them  
It was only logical I would be last  
Sometimes as I walk the halls  
I can hear Salazar and Godric storming at each other   
I can hear them call me Ravenclaw Girl

There are other Ravenclaw girls now.   
Clever girls. Clever boys too.  
My house was always meant to be a refuge for the young  
The smart  
While Hufflepuff hides away and those two bloody idiots  
Still struggle with each other  
Not realising that courage without sense is stupidity   
Ambition without ethics is monstrosity.

We will survive, little children,  
We are smart but we are subtle  
You are survivors  
Gathered under my wing.

* * *

Mouths of Babes  
All I ever do causes trouble.   
Even something so simple as keeping a journal --   
And the best kind of journal! It wrote back!  
Nothing but trouble.

I told him my secrets  
I told him everything and what does he do but  
Go and try to kill the boy I look up to,  
The boy I thought I could love.  
Make me a puppet oh -- how I hate that!  
I hate him!

Before, when I was a small girl   
My parents would talk of You Know Who  
And it was like something out of a faerie tale.   
It wasn't real.  
And now...

Maybe that was why it was me, why fate chose me  
Why I had to be the one to bring Tom Riddle back  
To show me  
How very real this man is  
And if he was that dangerous when he was still in school  
Think what he could do now.

They don't want me tagging along with them,  
They don't want me to endanger myself  
But I will, because more than anyone  
Excepting perhaps the Boy Who Lived  
I KNOW  
WHO YOU ARE,  
YOU KNOW WHO.

* * *

Teacher's Pet  
We were all so awkward at that stage of life.  
Couldn't control the growth of our bodies,  
Couldn't control much -- the teachers had all the power.  
Most of us chose to keep a secret of some kind or another--  
Students do, you know, I can see them even now. 

Children you wouldn't expect. Longbottom of course,  
A picture of his parents  
Sometimes pretends that when he visits them  
He's visiting the people who killed them  
It seems to comfort him, I don't know why.

Parkinson has a secret pen-friend she writes to  
I think she's probably in love with him  
It's good; a first love should be remembered  
In letters, documents  
Stamps from far-off places. 

I don't know some of the secrets. What is it  
That Malfoy keeps locked away   
Behind those walled-in grey eyes?  
Why was Potter --  
Even before these latest deaths --  
Why so very driven to die? 

These aren't desires or fantasies, you understand  
They don't have to be pleasant  
They are merely secrets  
The thing we and we only   
Own  
The one thing that we can say is Ours.

I was fifteen. Brilliant.   
I had friends, I had boys occasionally  
But I did not have a secret and I was going to go mad  
Because nothing was mine  
Nothing of mine lasted.

So I twined myself with the animal  
I studied the ways of beasts  
And quantified magic into little cat claws

I registered, of course. But nobody needed to know that  
I was fifteen, not twenty-three,  
When I got my Secret.

Nobody needs know yours, children.  
Keep them  
You will need them.

* * *

Hermione's Words

Look to the future.  
Look always to the future.

Abandon what you were taught as a child,   
Give up nameless, wordless fear,  
Find the new place, see what it can teach you.

I know what it's like  
I have been given the names  
I have heard the whispers in the hallways  
But I am strong  
And I will always  
Always  
Be behind you  
To catch you if you fall.

(and who will catch me?  
No, I will not worry  
But who will be there?  
No, I will not think on it) 

Look to the future,   
A bright few years away  
We will survive the darkness.

I, after all,  
Already have.

* * *

Examples  
Sometimes the difference between   
Seeming to be wise and   
Seeming to be foolish  
Is all in how serious you can manage to look while lying. 

I am so tired.  
I have played this life's game so long --   
I would not choose immortality now even if I could.

It is odd, no doubt,  
For a headmaster to be beloved by his students,  
He who must be seen as the ultimate giver of school law.  
Certainly Slytherin, who most often break school law  
They're not all that fond of me.

But sometimes  
When the long hard day is past  
I can walk into the hall for dinner  
And these children  
Turn to watch me  
So much love, you can feel it on your skin

Then  
I remember why I became a teacher.  
I remember why I am fighting  
So that these boys and girls who love me so much  
(And it is difficult to understand why, but I do not question)  
May grow up to follow the example I wish to set

Be good people  
Be kind   
Occasionally give loved ones new socks  
And all in all  
Find beauty in the blessing of being  
Different.

* * *

Little Dragon  
I think the first memory I have of my father  
Was when I was about four.   
Seeing blood on his hands --   
Very symbolic, I know.

Not mine, of course, to me he was always kind --   
Not nice, Lucius Malfoy is not known for being nice  
But he is a good father to me.

The blood was, I think, a muggle's.  
The man had shortchanged him in a shop. It wasn't very  
Intelligent to kill a man, after the Dark Lord's fall,  
But daddy has always depended upon his riches to protect him.

And it taught me that to be different is to be endangered  
To stand against those more powerful is a risk of life  
Follow power, worship it because without it  
Nobody survives my father.

Do you suppose I torment the boy because I enjoy it?   
Because I'm jealous?  
Or just because I'm bored? No.  
I do it because his power fascinates me. 

Seek out power.  
Without it you are nothing.

* * *

House: Loyalty

What is there really to say?

I never paid much attention to the others.   
I kept my head down  
Like a good Hufflepuff does  
You study, you do all right  
Not too stellar, but then  
Being the best has its own problems.

I always thought it was most pleasant to be   
Something simple.  
To work hard for good wages  
To live in a little house somewhere  
Not to have any more problems than average.  
Be loyal to your friends   
And turn a clear eye on your enemies  
If you are so unfortunate  
As to have made some. 

Salazar calls it moneyed thought   
He says it's the spirit of people who keep the world from changing  
But I figured  
It was better to do good in one's own little sphere  
Than change the world and find out later  
You changed it in the wrong direction.  
At least in my version  
You care for your neighbour and   
Nobody starves or robs   
or places deathly curses on their fellow human beings.

I say to you  
When Gryffindors are fighting  
You stand behind them  
I say to you  
You be loyal and you stand when needed  
And when not needed  
You care for each other  
And keep your head down  
And work hard, children.

You are the builders of the dreams  
In which Godric and Salazar live.

* * *

Heart-Divided  
Nobody knows, how could they?  
How could they possibly know?  
Did anyone stand there in the smoking wreckage,   
Did anyone stand there and see -- 

Nothing.  
Not a trace left.  
Except the child.

Oh, Harry. If I could I would go back now  
I would stop myself from going after Peter -- if I could  
Harry  
Oh no, boy, I never meant to leave you  
I was so angry  
I did it for you but it wasn't really for you, was it?

My own stupidity.

Years in prison  
Two thoughts in my head --   
I will bloody well kill you, Peter Pettigrew  
Alongside of  
I love you, Harry Potter  
I don't know, child, if I can separate the two anymore.

You will have to understand  
I would kill for you in an instant  
But I don't know if I can care for you like I should --  
Better you live in that house, unloved, uncared-for,  
Than come live with me, heart-divided between love and hate.   
Isn't that so?

And then those green eyes on mine  
I was so unworthy of his adulation.  
Heartlifted out of misery  
Soul-risen because a little boy  
A little boy I abandoned   
Didn't care what I had done.  
Didn't care that half my life was already given away.

And his friends, you can't buy loyalty like that.  
Love me because he loves me  
Care for me because he cares for me

If I could come to you, Harry,  
If I could hide you away forever  
I would kill -- 

No.

I would not kill, you would not want that.  
See? I'm learning.

But I would still die for that, for you,  
Who looks so much like the ones I lost that even my divided heart  
Aches.

* * *

Chosen  
There is a certain pride to poverty  
Which comes with knowing you have fought harder  
You have understood more  
Because there have been no golden walls protecting you.  
But the pride is carefully wrapped in   
so  
much  
anger  
sometimes I wonder--  
Is it only me?

Because I have five brothers to go before me and be Different  
One sister to come after me, the baby of the family  
And somewhere in the red heads I got lost  
Until...

I am not special because I am the friend of the Boy Who Lived.  
I am special because a Boy Named Harry is my friend.   
Because another boy chose me  
Ron Weasley  
Over all the others  
To be his friend  
Because a girl named Hermione  
Chose me

I count my own fame not in  
Conquered Adventures or Good Jobs  
Not in money, prestige, or fame  
But in my friends. 

Could you buy Harry from my side?  
Could Hermione be promoted so far that I would lose her?  
You go ahead and try. 

For the first time in my life  
When he looked Draco Malfoy in the eye and said  
He knew who his friends were  
(having known me perhaps three hours?)  
I felt rich.

* * *

My Eyes  
I always felt close to James  
Sirius  
and of course Peter  
But I do admit that James and Sirius were a bit troublesome.  
Peter and I sometimes went walking the grounds  
Just us two  
Both a bit smaller, a bit weaker than Padfoot and Prongs  
Peter was quite smart in his own way, you know  
Though I think I can safely say  
My character was a bit stronger than his. 

I always thought it odd that Sirius killed Peter,   
I never quite  
Believed it;  
Everyone else said Sirius,   
that one, he had a temper  
And Peter wasn't so very good at magic, either.   
Volatile schoolboys still, the both of them.   
But I knew that we all loved Peter Pettigrew  
It was part of our bond, protecting the littlest  
Sirius, the biggest, took that bond  
Very much to heart,  
No matter how little he showed it.

Even if he had turned, killing Peter was   
Forbidden  
After all  
As it turns out  
Peter didn't kill Sirius, did he?  
Though perhaps...  
More merciful if he had...

At any rate  
You had asked me to speak about myself  
And here I go on about my friends  
(Isn't it always the way).

What do you say about a pale,  
brown-haired,  
Thin and sometimes sickly boy?  
My troubles entertain no-one but myself.  
If you wish to understand me  
Tease a wolf and watch its eyes   
In the moment before it decides whether to leap for your throat  
Or run away.

Those are my eyes.

* * *

House: Courage  
What was I supposed to do? We agreed  
There should be a school but I   
Never  
Meant   
That my school would produce  
That Thing  
Tom Riddle. 

I blame Salazar. He fathered the Dark Arts  
He loved them  
There was something wrong with Salazar Slytherin.

I admit that  
Idealistic  
I intended Salazar's boys and girls  
To balance out my own  
Beautiful bright courageous children  
To show them what they could rise above  
And perhaps it was wrong  
Perhaps it taught the Slytherin house  
That their natural place was on the side of  
Dark  
I don't know

Something was wrong with Salazar Slytherin  
We all knew it  
But what else was there to do?

(And in the dark hours after the fights  
When Hufflepuff and the Ravenclaw Girl were asleep  
The taste of his mouth so sweet  
No oh how could I  
But he was irresistable the power was  
Irresistable  
He was dark to my light and  
Fit into the curve of the candleflame like shadow  
Meant to be there)

I blame Salazar, really.  
But it could not have been avoided, I think.  
There is always dark to the light  
It's just that sometimes things lose balance and  
It overwhelms  
(oh)

* * *

When I Come For You  
When it comes, it won't be like that.   
The real evil never is. 

It won't be a war with camps and battlefields   
Tents, marching, armaments   
Attacks and strategy it won't   
Be so clean as all that   
Little one. 

When it comes, you won't even know it. 

Your friends will fall away,  
Your old rivalries will become death  
You think this one or that one is trying to protect you  
But they're not.   
They're already 

Mine. 

When it comes it will be like last time   
As all evil ever is --  
Insidious.   
Growing in the hearts of men willing to   
be led rather than lead willing to   
give in, give up,   
rather than give   
every last breath in your body 

Don't doubt I'll take it. 

And still there will be no battlefields.   
This fight is in the soul. 

Go on ahead.   
Plan for battles.   
Meanwhile, my little dark hands   
Will slip into the city and oh there   
Will be bloodshed in the very streets   
Invisible   
You won't see it. 

This War you speak of.   
You're waiting for it. 

But I am the War   
And I am not going to wait   
And you won't even know I've come   
Until you draw yourself up for the first battle   
And find it is the last. 

And what will you do about it,   
Boy who Lived?

* * *

The Prince's Shadow  
I am never the only one, you know.

I remember a time when I was the only  
I remember a time when I was just a child  
When I did not have fights  
When I was not tricked into things such as  
Shrieking Shacks  
But that was all very long ago

And now I am never alone.

Sometimes I take comfort in the shadows lurking  
Looking just over my shoulder  
At least they are a distraction  
From a life lived and gauged by tests graded,   
Children passed,  
House points given or taken away.

Most of the time the shadows merely   
Make trouble  
Make me cross with the children  
Most of the time  
Most of the time...

But sometimes in dark nights  
I wake up and the shadows have faces --   
James Potter   
Scorns me for being a coward.

Ever since the day  
I realised, I am so sorry   
I am so sorry Lily  
Ever since the day  
I have done my penance  
I have lived a life alone except for shadows  
I have cared for children more than those children  
Will ever know. I care for children  
I am a good man  
I am a teacher not a killer not a traitor not --

And now I am asked to walk back down the paths  
Of my stupid, misshapen youthful mistakes  
For the children  
Because I am a good man  
And now I wonder  
If I go to him   
Will I be able to resist that path again?  
Will I still be Severus?  
Or will I too be   
A shadow?

* * *

Hogsmeade  
Where did they all go?

There used to be hundreds of wizarding towns,   
Cities difficult for Muggles even to find.  
There were other places you could go  
And not go through London for them.

Now we are the only ones left  
Preserved like a museum piece  
Plenty of our children go to Hogwarts up the hill. 

Wizards scattered, not just when You-Know-Who passed through this life  
Before that  
When Muggle science took grip,  
It was just safer that way.  
You-Know-Who only proved that. 

Still, it would be nice if we were not the only  
If there were other towns.  
Then perhaps they could take some of the burden of trouble  
That falls on the only one of its kind  
In dark days such as these.

* * *

Bring Your Army  
I can see you,   
Tom Riddle. 

Every twitch of a smile,   
Every flick of long-fingered hands.   
Every slide of serpentine eyes.   
Every taunt, insult, assault ever hurled at you 

I can see them all.   
Do you think we are so very different? 

You are my mother and father,   
You who killed them.   
My greatest teacher --  
Who could not kill me. 

So taunt me   
Insult and assault me   
Tom Riddle   
I am the Boy who Survived You   
The Boy who will not die   
And you may think your War has begun   
But until you face me 

You're just a superstition in the night. 

You are not a War   
Tom Riddle   
You are merely an Army   
Looking for a fight. 

Well, bring it to me, then. 

Run wild in the streets, and I will be there.   
Plan your little manipulations and I will   
Wall them up against you   
Bring your best to bear   
My father, my mother, my teacher. 

We are two children of one destiny. 

The battle between us   
Could never be the last battle   
It must be the first   
Because there will be none   
Until you stand to face me. 

A boy. 

Thirteen?   
Fifteen?   
Seventeen? 

Bring it to me, Dark Lord.   
Bring your hatred and your dark magic and your Death Eaters. 

I am the Boy who Lived   
And you are just a name   
Voldemort.   
If you really were Tom Riddle   
You might stand a chance. 

But you chose to be a name   
And not a boy who once wrestled in the halls,   
Told jokes and snuck candy under the teachers' eyes.   
You chose myth over manhood. 

And when I am a Man   
Don't doubt this,   
If you have not come for me   
I will come for you. 

And then   
And only then   
Will the War begin.

* * *

Judges  
Opening vollies fired,   
what do we know about it?  
Perhaps we didn't hear them  
Students at school. 

We walk the halls  
We don't have names  
Not to you  
Wizarding world. 

We are just students  
Trying to pass classes  
Trying to live through  
A newcoming war.

Cannon fodder  
Just like our parents  
The second coming  
Of the deepest dark magic.

We are just students  
Faceless in the war  
You may never know our names  
Perhaps that is better.

Let Harry stand for us.  
God he knows  
Someone has to stand  
For the nameless students.

At Hogwarts School  
The first and last battleground.

* * *

Epilogue  
And am I never to speak?

I, Salazar Slytherin, who am the root and branch of all evil  
(if you listen to Godric)  
Who was not allowed to speak for his own house?

Am I to remain silent?

I did not intend for death and destruction,  
I did not intend that the children in my care  
Should be murderers.   
I did not intend that my son should be an abhorrence  
Any more than Godric wished it.

But I was a child of poverty  
I was a fighter  
And I was ambitious  
And I wanted my children to have  
Everything that I did not.

Look at the boy there,  
Silver-haired, clever-faced.  
Child of privilege.   
Beautifully formed.  
Intelligent,  
Rich family.  
Everything I hated because I did not have  
I love in him because it is due to me  
That he has it. 

I did not mean, you little one  
I did not mean that anyone should be called  
Mud-Blood; they are human as we are,  
Poor things.

I only meant to give you a good life,  
A pure life,  
To make you rich among your own kind.

I had such hopes for Tom.   
In Slytherin he should have understood  
He should have realised how strong he was,  
How great he could be --  
But not like this, Tom.

He should not have turned inward.  
But what could I,  
Less than a ghost --  
What could I do?

Only once in a long while,  
As he wept at the thought of the orphanage each holiday --   
Sometimes I could summon a single finger to brush tears from his cheeks  
Sometimes I could give a poor cold comfort.

I have loved my children.  
Even those who strayed.  
I have shown the compassion that was never shown to me.  
If I have thus been an evil man  
I have had my punishment.


End file.
